Grandma Says..

Observations and views from a different set of eyes

The FBI Needs Our Help


Moments ago, the FBI released pictures of two men suspected in the Boston Marathon Bombings.  Hopefully, someone will recognize these men and call the FBI.  If you do see them, don’t try to apprehend them..they are considered armed and dangerous!  Let’s find these cowards!


Anyone with information, call your local FBI office or your local law authorities.



My Message To The Boston Terrorists


To the terrorists that placed the bombs that killed three innocent people and injured 176 other bystanders; I have a message for you.  You made a major mistake in Boston.

You believe that such a horrible act will weaken the American people; you believe that we will run and hide from you.  You couldn’t be more wrong.  And, your mistake will cost you.

Americans might disagree publicly; from gun control issues to the way our leaders are running our country.  You see our discord as a weakness. You see us lower our flags and celebrate that as a sign of defeat on our part and a victory for you.  You are again, making a major mistake.

For when our country comes under attack from cowards like you; we put all our differences aside and we become one nation with one united purpose.  A nation that will find you and bring you to justice.  You will be brought before us to account for your reprehensible actions and we will decide your fate.

We will not rest until the day comes that you are arrested and made to face the penalty for terrorism, to pay for the lives you’ve destroyed and to pay for the innocents you killed.

You have made the biggest mistake of your life..thinking that we are a Nation that doesn’t care.  We will find what rock you are hiding under; whether it be on our home shores or overseas and you will be held accountable for your acts of terrorism.

So, keep looking over your shoulder, for the people of the great United States of America are on your trail.  We’re not running in fear, we’re not a divided nation, we are searching for you and will make you pay for your violent acts of cowardice.  We will be armed not with vengeance but with justice by our side. You’ll recognize us..we’ll be the ones holding the American Flag high and proud!

God Bless America!


Post Card From Cranky


Hi Everyone!  I do truly wish you were here with me to join in on all the great happenings that are part of the camping experience at Camp NaNoWriMo.

 I didn’t expect the turnout for this writing camp.  Over 30,000 writers showed up, ready to sit down and create a novel in 30 short days.


Mornings we get up and take turns making the coffee.  Gotta have the caffeine to keep our energy up to reach our daily writing goals!


I did notice that some campers are just not Morning People!


But, all in all I get along pretty good with my cabin mates.  One night I let a fellow camper give me a new do!


And, of course, at night would be the spooky campfire stories.


During breaks, some of us just hang around and shoot the breeze.


Some campers like to take to the high seas to relax!


And of course, there’s the great taste of food cooked over a campfire.  Sometimes, we get an unexpected guest!


But, all in all, it’s been a great time had by all.

Well, gotta go now.  Our Leader is beckoning us to join him for some Ice Cream.  He looks a little “Goonie” but he’s really a sweet guy with a big sweet tooth!


I’ll write home again soon!




Halfway Home


Two weeks ago, I entered Camp NaNoWriMo with a somewhat cocky attitude.  Write a novel in thirty days?  Piece of cake, I thought.  So sure of myself; I even upped my goal of 20,000 words to 30,000.  What the hell was I thinking?

During the short time I’ve been at camp; I made a very important discovery..writing a novel is a lot of damn work.  Contrary to my former beliefs, words and ideas don’t magically appear on those blank white pages.  My cocky attitude disappeared and I found myself wondering if I was actually going to be able to pull this off.

My self doubt started to stall the writing process.  I found reasons to write funny posts instead of working on the novel.  I spent hours reading, I cleaned my yard and I did all sorts of mundane chores just to have an excuse for not writing.

Finally, last week, I looked at my progress with the novel and almost pulled up my tent and trekked back home.  I was seriously behind and although I liked what I wrote so far; I had a long way to go to get to the finish line.  I had to sit down and make a decision.  Was I going to finish this commitment I had made or find some lame excuse for not completing the camp.

Well, Cranky ain’t no quitter!  When I say I’m going to do something; I do it or die trying.  (Okay, maybe a little drama going on there.)  So, I took the necessary steps to make sure I could finish this novel on time.

I’ve had to stop posting so much; I was spending way too much time on writing my posts and way too little on my novel.  This was the hard part, I so love writing my posts and the interaction with my readers.  But, a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.

I just hope you all don’t forget about me while I’m away at camp.  I sure haven’t forgotten about you and I promise, once I get done here, I’ll be catching up with all of you.

I also had to push that self doubt aside and just get on with it.  Once I made the decision to make this novel happen, things started to really roll.  Now, I can’t think of much else except what my heroine is going to do next and what roadblock she’ll have to overcome to reach her destination!  I’ve actually completed more than half of my word goals and the story has taken on a life of it’s own.

I also changed cabins.  The people that I had been grouped with in my old cabin weren’t writing much at all.  My new cabin is filled with people doing some serious word output and I find myself more motivated with them.

So, I’ve started to kick some serious butt with my novel and I’m feeling good.  Because I found that writing is work, but it is also fun and rewarding when you see the story coming together and start enjoying being with your characters.

I’ll still be peeking in at all of you.  I just have to make sure I keep my priorities straight and keep my mouth shut a little more on my blog site until I’m done.  However, since all work and no play makes Cranky even Crankier, I’m sure you’ll be seeing a couple of posts coming now that I’ve got my writing rolling along at a good pace.

Well, gotta go now.  I was in the supermarket this afternoon and had a great idea for a chapter and I have to put it in the story before the ink I wrote with washes off my hand.

Wish me Luck!


Send Prayers To Boston


Two bombs have exploded near the finish line of the Boston Marathon.  Two are known dead and twenty three others have been injured.  News reports on the bombings are still coming in.

Let’s all send our prayers and thoughts to the injured and their families.  If you wish to see an initial report, I have a link here for you.  God, will this never end?



A Legend Passes


“If Your Ship Doesn’t Come In,

Swim Out To It”

Jonathan Winters

1925 – 2013

Goodnight, sweet man.  You’ll be missed by the generations you inspired.  You’ll be remembered by those of us you entertained for so many years.

I’ll miss your giggle, your smile and your wonderful talent for making us laugh!


Was It Something I Said?

laughing birds

Yesterday morning, as I was again wiping bird poop off my pretty little red car, I felt despair.

Why me, I cried out to the skies?  Did I offend you in some way?  Did I fail you somehow?  Did I ruffle your feathers?

I’m not being paranoid; the birds are out to get me.  Every morning I open the garage door and sadly count the number of bird turds splattered across my car.  The birds have made me a marked woman; while my car looks like it has been attacked by a maniac with a paint ball gun, Danny’s black truck sits unmarked and shiny next to it.

So, I ask you, what have I done wrong to have so many birds with an attitude circle my car and act like a bulls-eye has been painted on it’s roof?

I love birds, I once had a parrot for a short time.  He was so pretty; he was so loud and he bit everyone.  We gave him to a neighbor, who gave him to a friend. who gave him to his ex-wife.

I also had a adorable little parakeet for a even shorter time than the loud mouthed parrot.  It wasn’t I who left the back door open and let Tweetie fly into the sky, where he became potential hawk bait.  I wasn’t even home at the time!

So I ask you.  Where have I gone wrong with our feathered friends?  I don’t dare feed them for fear that their bowel habits will increase three-fold and I will wake up in horror to find my car has been completely covered with bird droppings.

I’ve tried putting a sign on the hood of my car with the words “Hit the Black Truck” and a huge arrow pointing to Danny’s pride and joy, but I guess the brainless dive-bombers ignored it or can’t read.  I tied a white handkerchief to my antenna surrendering to the flocks; but they still attack nightly.

If someone out has any information regarding preventing these nasty little birds from using my car as a disposal site for their crap; please let me know as soon as possible.  Until then, I’ll just keep wiping off the car and wondering “Was it something I said?”


The Sky Is Falling!


Chicken Little met Henny Penny

He said,

“The sky is Falling!”

Henny Penny said,

“How do you know, Chicken Little?”

Chicken Little said,

“Some of it fell on my tail!”

Now, I’m no Chicken Little.  I usually don’t stress over the stuff that has most people running in circles and warning that the world is about to end.

I watched bomb shelters being built in the 1950’s and scratched my head.  I laughed during the Y2 debate and kept my computer humming.  I believed the Mayan Calender ended because the Indians ran out of ink.

But, when I woke up this morning, I found this on my Facebook page.


Now, most people are probably excited about this upcoming event that happens each April.  These showers have been observed for over 2000 years.  I, however, am a little bit paranoid concerned about these meteors streaking through our skies.

After all, meteors are known by another name.  FIREBALLS!  What if a couple of these balls of fire decide to drop in for a visit?  What kind of protection would we have against that kind of firepower?

Well, I looked through the Internet and the Home Shopping Network and failed to find any kind of protective gear that would help save me in the event of a unexpected visitor from space.  I couldn’t even find a Flame Retardant Meteor Umbrella to protect my head.  So, I decided that my house would probably be the safest place to be.

I looked up some of the pictures from past meteor landings and discovered my house would be leveled by one of these babies.  (I also discovered that my homeowner’s policy didn’t cover what they considered to be an “Act of God.”)  So, I then thought that a basement would ensure my safety.

Alas, I live in Florida…digging a basement here will only result in a watery hole into which your house will eventually sink into.  I then remembered when I first arrived in Florida and heard the weather forecasters announce a Tornado warning.  I asked someone where the nearest basement was that I could take refuge in.  They smiled and said “North Carolina.”

So, without protective gear and no safe place to go, I guess I’ll just sit back on April 22 with a pair of binoculars and a megaphone.  I’ll watch with a sharp eye and be sure to let my neighbors know if it becomes time; time to put our heads between our legs and kiss our butts goodbye.

I may not be Chicken Little, but I may be a Little Chicken!

Just Saying!


Need A Laugh?

Well, let me share a video I found yesterday.  Meet Nina Conti and her Human Puppets! 

I don’t know who had more fun: the audience, the volunteers or Nina!

You can click here to visit her site and maybe get another chuckle or two!

Hope you enjoyed!


Jumping On The Wagon


Last May, I gave up drinking. Danny’s doctors absolutely prohibited him from drinking if he wanted to survive; I knew that the only way to succeed in keeping him on the wagon was to join him in abstaining from the brewskis.

I miss drinking sometimes; I miss it when Danny is stepping on my last nerve; I miss it when I watch football; and I miss it when I mow the lawn.  Other than that, I really don’t think about it much.  I do feel better, lost a lot of weight and I haven’t fallen in a long time.

When I do find myself wanting to tip a beer, I find something motivational that keeps me on track.  I keep this list to remind myself of some of the things I would do when I drank just a few too many!

I would believe that dancing with my arms overhead and wiggling my butt while yelling “woo-hoo”  was a new and sexy dance craze!

I would look around and decide I really wanted to kick someone’s butt..and I actually believed I could do it!

I would go to the girl’s room to pee and discover that I now looked like a homeless hooker instead of the goddess I was just four hours prior.

I would go around the bar, hugging, crying and telling everyone that I loved them soooo much (even if I didn’t know them.)

I would jump up and down when a song came on the jukebox, screaming “Oh my God, I love this song!”

I would find a deeper spiritual side to the geek sitting next to me.

I would suddenly take up smoking and become really good at it.

I would think I was in bed, but my pillow felt like the kitchen floor.

I’d take my shoes off and blame them for my not being able to walk straight.

Normally, remembering these little drinking issues straightens out my yearning to return to the suds.  After all, I’m getting to old to wake up and discover I’ve slept in my bathtub!

Just Saying!


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